


What Would You Have Me Do?

by Ramasylle_Karanese



Category: The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: Bad Fic, Esca hating himself, Gang Rape, M/M, Marcus being a slave, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Revenge Sex, follows movie plot sort of, ignoring injuries, nonsense sex scene, weak ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 05:11:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1675934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramasylle_Karanese/pseuds/Ramasylle_Karanese
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A simple glance in the wrong direction has Marcus suffering terrible consequences. Esca can do little but offer compensation for the insult his "slave" has committed. And the Seal Prince takes all that he can get.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Would You Have Me Do?

Sitting lonely on a cold damp rock, Marcus was carving into a little piece of driftwood. He stopped often, staring out into the sea as it crashed against the rocky shore, a cold breeze whipping his hair about and plucking at his clothes. He heard quiet voices, women's voices, whispering and giggling. The Roman turned and spotted a group of village women eying him, pointing his direction and smiling at each other. One in particular seemed to sway her hips just so; as if tempting him to let his eyes wander over her body. Marcus grinned at her, dropping his gaze back to his carving. He heard the women gasp and before he knew what was happening, he was flat on his back, jaw aching. Leaping up, Marcus crouched, ready to protect himself, but saw that his assailant was the Seal Prince, glaring at him angrily. Marcus scowled, and the Seal Prince lashed out, striking Marcus across the face again. Just then, Esca came over a hill and saw the scuffle. Rushing in, Esca demanded to know what happened. The Seal Prince smiled, showing all of his teeth in a less than friendly manner.

 

"The Roman slave was making eyes at my sister. He should be punished" The Seal Prince growled, looking said Roman in the eye, and expecting him to look away. Marcus held the gaze until he heard Esca bark at him.

 

"Kneel." Esca commanded, and Marcus leveled a look of loathing at his once-slave. "Kneel!" Esca advanced towards Marcus, and made to strike him but held back, waiting to see if he would comply. Slowly, Marcus fell to his knees, and quick as lighting, Esca had a blade to his throat, pulling his head back with a vicious tug to his hair. Marcus grit his teeth, staring once again at the Seal Prince, who was watching, amused.

 

"What would you have me do?" Esca asked, as if this was merely a trifle of a matter, and he was getting bored of it, like it would be better to just slit the Roman's throat and be done with the whole thing. Inside who hoped beyond all hope that the Prince would not demand Marcus' death. Marcus only heard the Briton words, and wished he could understand them, but he could hear the note of boredom in Esca's voice. The Seal Prince thought long and hard. He had observed the Roman from afar, and he was surely a prize to bed. Hard and mercilessly. The thought of taking this Roman slave stirred the Seal Prince's loins, and he decided what Esca would do.

 

"Give him to me for a night. I will show him what it is to lay with a Seal." The Seal Prince said, laughing, and Esca felt the bottom of his stomach drop out, and a fear-filled rush of horror washed through him. Marcus was rigid, still staring at the Seal Prince; but not at his face. Marcus tried not to imagine what it meant; the bulge in the Seal Prince's cloth. Esca nodded curtly.

 

"If that is what you believe is appropriate. By all means, take him. Try not to damage him too much. He is fairly useful." Esca said, shoving Marcus towards the Seal Prince. Marcus sprawled, and in his attempt to save himself, jostled his leg painfully. The Seal Prince grinned, and motioned for his warriors to take the Roman away. Marcus looked at Esca, demanding answers with his gaze. Esca swallowed.

 

"Whatever they do to you, just take it. It will be better if you keep relaxed." Esca said, and he looked away feeling ashamed; like a traitor. Marcus felt fear trill through him, and as he was grabbed roughly by a group of Seal warriors, he began to panic.

 

"Esca…Esca! What are they going to do? Esca! Don't let them do this!" Marcus pleaded, but Esca turned and left, leaving Marcus in the hands of the warriors. The Seal Prince smiled, and told his warriors to bring the slave to his tent. It would indeed be…exciting. Marcus struggled as the warriors dragged him towards the ornate tent of the Seal Prince, but too many hands held him, and it was useless. The Seal Prince thought of how to make this all the more humiliating for the Roman, and as he watched his warriors yank at him, putting hands all over him, he realized he knew what he would do to the Roman slave. It would also make it easier for him to take the slave without much trouble.

 

"Men. Stay, and help me whip this Roman bitch into shape." The Seal Prince said, and the warriors all cheered, honored to have been asked such a request. Marcus could barely breath, his fear boiled over and churned his stomach, clenched his heart. Pulling him inside, Marcus expected the warriors to leave him there, but they stayed, and began tearing his clothes. Marcus tried to fight, but where one set of hands had torn fabric, another would hold his wrists, and still more his ankles. Soon, Marcus was bare before the group of Seal people. They circled him now, not touching him, just staring down at him. Marcus, on his knees, stood tall, attempted to look honorable. The Seal Prince kicked Marcus down, and he nodded at his warriors, who began throwing fists and kicks. Marcus could do little but curl up, protecting his head from the onslaught. Pain lanced through his arms, back, and thighs, where heartless blows landed incessantly. Marcus made no sound, just lay there, taking it. The Seal Prince held up a hand, and the blows ceased. "He will not bend that way. I will take him first, and then you may do as you please. Hold him." He said. The Seal Prince advanced towards the Roman slave, again held by his warriors. Marcus took a shuddering breath, and glared at the Seal Prince. The Seal Prince stopped just in front of the slave, and dramatically, slowly, to get the point of his intentions across pulled his loincloth away, revealing an impressive length, erect. Marcus's eyes widened, and he tried to back away, but hands held him rigidly in place. The Seal Prince smirked. As lovely as it would be to force his cock into the lush mouth of this slave, he wanted his ass.

 

"Bare him to me." He ordered, and the warriors, panting shallowly, all aroused at the thought of what to come, forced Marcus on his hands and knees, and then forced his head and chest to the floor. Marcus struggled again.

 

"No! NO!" he snarled, attempting to wrench his arms free. The Seal Prince fell behind the slave, and with his thighs, forced the slave's legs apart. Marcus was breathing too fast, unable to move, unable to stop this, and worse, had been put here because of Esca. Because he was a soldier, he knew all about the kinds of intercourse men did with each other. He knew that sometimes the one to be breaching the other would prepare him, stretch him out with fingers and oil. But he realized that he would get none of that kindness. His thoughts were confirmed when he felt the hot length of the Seal Prince prod at his entrance. Marcus tried to relax, tried to loosen up so that when he was finally impaled, he wouldn't be in so much agony. It was pointless. The Seal Prince thrust hard and deep into Marcus, leaving no time for getting used to his impressive size, tearing his insides and drawing blood. Marcus cried out, digging his forehead into the ground and biting his tongue, tears springing into his eyes. Mercilessly, the Seal Prince pounded into Marcus. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh, the grunts of the Seal Prince, and the slave trying desperately to hold back agonized screams nearly drove the warriors into frenzy.

 

The Seal Prince was amazed. The Roman slave was so tight. His attempt at keeping silent and controlled egged him on, and the sight of his back, corded tight and rippling with his every thrust was magnificent. Soon, the Seal Prince felt the familiar pleasure pooling in his belly, the tightening of his balls as he came close to release. When he saw that he must have hit that spot in any man that made them cry out, how the Roman nearly arched back, fists clenched, a thin whine of pain and pleasure escaping his lips, the Seal Prince came hard.

 

Marcus was mortified when he felt the white flash of pleasure, when he reacted to it with a pathetic sound. He trembled, and then suddenly he felt a new burning inside him; the Seal Prince had come. He felt the Seal Prince thrusting into him still, spending the last of his orgasm. When the Seal Prince pulled out, he laughed at the sight of cum and blood dripping down the slaves thighs. Feeling satisfied for now, he looked at his warriors, and all of them had shucked their coverings, now as naked as the slave. Snorting, he nodded.

 

"Do what you will." He said.

 

The warriors fell on Marcus like a pack of hungry wolves. Marcus couldn't help but scream as cocks were forcefully thrust inside him, hands all over, tugging, clawing, scratching, squeezing. Choking, Marcus felt tears running down his cheeks as a couple of the warriors used his mouth for their pleasure, and he was unable to breath. Soon, he felt almost numb, and they began to bite him, drawing blood. It was as if they attempted to feast on his flesh, and the only thing he could do was take it.

 

Esca heard the despairing cries as the warriors took Marcus again and again. He felt bereft. He felt like shit, and worthless and like a scumbag traitor. He knew he wouldn't be able to meet Marcus' eyes after this, after the ultimate betrayal. Sitting with his arms crossed on his knees, Esca let tears of guilt run down his face; he cried for Marcus.

 

It was a long time before the warriors were satisfied. The Seal Prince himself claimed Marcus three times. Marcus lost count of the cocks, the hands, the faces of painted warriors. He lay on the dirt floor, weakly trembling. He was ashamed. At some point the warriors decided to take him while he lay on his back, knees to his shoulders, legs spread wide like a common whore. And at some point, he realized they had been striking that spot inside him that made him keen. The warriors were not the only ones to come. Marcus was overwhelmed, and he couldn't control the mounting pleasure, despite the pain, the humiliation. So Marcus lay on the floor in shame, and bleeding from a mish mash of bites, scratches, and from his horribly abused hole, he passed out.

 

Esca spotted the group of warriors as they dragged a naked and bleeding Marcus to the slave's tent. He felt a cold iron vice wrap around his heart and pierce his gut as he followed close behind, and on his way, grabbed a bowl of water and a cloth. When the warriors dropped Marcus at the entrance of the tent, Esca slunk in behind them as they left, and knelt at Marcus' side. Marcus was sweating and shaking, passed out but still suffering. Wetting the cloth, Esca gently wiped at the dirt on his face, the sweat on his brow, the blood on his shoulders and chest and thighs where teeth shaped cuts riddled the olive flesh—flesh that was getting pale and sickly looking. Esca held back a gasp of horror as he tried to clean the Roman up. It took him a long time to finally be rid of all traces of blood and the Seal warriors. Silent tears fell down the Briton's cheek as he tried his best to stop the bleeding. A haggardly old woman approached slowly. Esca's first reaction was to snarl at her, slightly leaning over the limp body of Marcus as if to protect him physically from any more harm. The woman held out her hands in a placating gesture, telling him she meant no harm. Esca allowed her by Marcus's side. She pulled out a small satchel from her robes, and opened it up. She put some herbs in her mouth, chewed, and began spreading the paste on the various wounds on Marcus' body. Her eyes were kindly and pitying. Then she looked Esca in the eye.

 

"You must put some where he bleeds the most. It will not be pleasant. He will probably wake up, and he may try to hurt you. But don't worry. The poultice will heal him. It must be done, or he may not survive." And she handed him the satchel of herbs. Esca swallowed. Where he bleeds most? The only place she hadn't gotten was inside him. Pursing his lips, Esca pinched some herbs and began to chew. It was bitter and disgusting. But it was a simple matter; hardly a trial. Nothing like what Marcus had to suffer. He could do this. Esca turned Marcus on his side, and positioned him in a fetal position. Making sure he had enough of the paste, Esca smeared it all over his fingers, and, not able to breathe as he did it, he began to slide his fingers into Marcus. With a jolt, Marcus woke up, and he began to cry out and thrash weakly.

 

He had thought they were done. His last lucid thought was being dropped on the dirt floor of the slave tent. Marcus was sure the warriors were done. But when he felt the breaching of his entrance again, he wanted to cry, to curl up and die. Yet this was different…the sensation was not painful. In fact, it was cool and in a strange way, soothing. Marcus relaxed, and unable to keep a black veil from closing over his eyes, he passed out again.

 

Esca nearly jumped back when Marcus awoke for a moment. Bile rose in his throat at the pitiful, fearful sound Marcus made. Then Marcus relaxed, eyes rolling, before going limp in sleep. Sighing, Esca finished the job. He would make things right again. He swore it.

 

It took a long time for Marcus to heal. After the first dose Esca applied, Marcus would not allow Esca nor the old woman touch him, so the woman let Marcus apply the herbal paste himself. He could hardly move without upsetting a pain deep inside him, and he would collapse, shuddering and making small noises. Every time Marcus flinched, Esca felt worse and worse. He made sure the Roman never had to see the Seal Prince, made sure that his work load was light. But Marcus would not look Esca in the eye. Not that the Briton could have managed to do it himself. He told himself over and over that the situation could have been far worse. The thought didn't help. A mere beating would have been fine—should have been fine.

 

Whenever Esca tried to talk to Marcus, the Roman would give him a horrible, betrayed look, and Esca would be unable to open his mouth. Esca knew he needed to get them out of there…but even now, Marcus was determined to retrieve the damned Gold Eagle. Esca also knew that he HAD to talk to Marcus, to tell him that if it wasn't letting the Prince do as he pleased, they both would die. And Esca knew what to argue to make Marcus see sense. And he hated himself for it. The Golden Eagle. Marcus' damned mission to retrieve the thing. If he hadn't let the Prince do what he did, Marcus would fail his mission and be shamed in Rome forever.

 

Finally, weeks later-with Marcus in nearly perfect health-Esca was told of a Coming-of-Age Ceremony. The details were shady, but he learned that a godlike creature came from the ocean to bless those who were joining the painted Seal warrior ranks, and that the creature had a majestic symbol wrested from the hands of a great army fallen to the Seal's brutality. Excitement coursed through his veins, and Esca rushed to tell Marcus. He was wary though, because Marcus had gotten brooding, throwing dark looks at Esca now and again. Such as at that moment; Marcus was glaring at Esca, and as the Briton approached, the look turned grimmer.

 

"Marcus. Please. You must talk with me. I have learned something that may be of great importance." Esca began. Marcus scowled and turned away.

 

"What? The Seal Prince decided he liked it so much that he will purchase me like a whore for the keeping?" Marcus spat. Esca felt his throat tighten.

 

"You know that is not what I came to say. I never intended for this to happen. You MUST realize that if I had any control over the situation, I would never, EVER have allowed it to happen. We are on a mission, remember? It was a means of surviving. It was a necessary sacrifice…" Esca nearly choked when he said it-on how much bullshit it was. Esca finished what he intended to say. "I may have discovered the location of the Eagle." Esca said softly, unable to lift his head. Marcus looked up sharply, searching the Brit's face for any sign of deceit. He saw none. Only sorrow and a deep, terrible regret. Marcus' heart softened slightly. His master…Marcus shook his head in near horror…his SLAVE had a point. If they had not complied with the Prince…Memories flashed through Marcus, and he quickly stopped thinking. Esca tightened his lips, knowing the thoughts that crossed his Roman's mind. Putting out his hand, Esca intended to lay a comforting hand on Marcus' shoulder. Marcus involuntarily flinched away, and Esca pulled his hand away, hand curling in a fist. "Anyway, the Eagle will be in the hands of a being that comes from the ocean during the Coming-of-Age Ceremony. It is in two days. We must plan an escape." Esca explained, and Marcus nodded. Finally, they will leave the cursed place. Home sounded like an impossible dream. So they planned, and they waited for the day of the ceremony.

 

* * *

 

 

They rode hard and fast, fleeing the baying of hounds and cries of angry warriors. The fear of what the Seal Warriors would do to them if they got caught egged both the men on. The ride proved brutal, and they hardly had time for rest. Marcus turned out not to have been as good in health as he seemed. Every day he got paler, he tired faster, he ate less. His leg became an affliction, and riding the horse seemed more torturous than any cock in his ass. Esca hated himself for the pace, but knew that any pause in the flight from Britain would mean death. After days of the fast paced escape, Marcus could go no further.

 

Esca was in a zone, riding without any other thought than to go in the right direction and go as fast as possible. Then he heard the horse behind him scream, and he pulled his to a stop. Looking behind him, he saw that Marcus had practically pulled the horse down as he fell, and the horse had stepped wrong. Marcus lay on the ground, motionless. Esca jumped from his horse, running for the prone figure on the ground.

 

"Marcus! Marcus, we must continue…oh Gods, please wake up! Please be alright…" Esca felt Marcus' brow, tried to lift him up, and barely managing it. The Roman was so huge, even if he had lost a lot of weight in the village. Marcus was shaking, feverish, and couldn't keep his eyes focused. Esca knew it was very serious. With strength that stemmed from desperation, Esca heaved Marcus up and over his horse. Taking the reins, Esca led the horse into a copse of thin trees. The ground was bursting with various sized boulders, and he felt that a cave would be around somewhere. His feeling turned out right when he spotted a small dark entrance deep within the small forest. Tying the horse to a branch, Esca investigated the cave, making sure nothing was inside. When he was content that nothing would impose its presence on them sometime during the night, Esca wrestled Marcus from the back of the horse, and dragged him into the surprisingly deep cave. Starting a fire, Esca examined Marcus. His wounded leg was slightly swollen, his skin was sallow, and he was ice cold. First Esca messaged the leg. Then he did his best to mop at the feverish brow of the Roman. With nothing else to do, Esca curled close to Marcus, attempting to keep him warm in the cold Britain weather. His could only hope that the Seal Warriors would not find them.

 

Marcus woke to the feeling of a chest pressed to his back. A thrill of fear coursed through him, and then it passed. The thin chest on his back was pressing against him in a gentle rhythm of breathing. He was warm again…and his leg was not so pained. Turning slowly, Marcus saw Esca, fast asleep. Marcus watched the Briton for a long time. Then suddenly, without even realizing it, the Roman was tracing his fingers gently along Esca's jaw, softly across his lips. Marcus was beginning to forgive Esca. The man was always doing his best for Marcus. With fond memories playing through Marcus' mind, Marcus unconsciously snuggled closer to Esca. And with the movement, Esca's eyes opened. At first in panic, then, when he saw the green eyes of the Roman looking at him, Esca relaxed. Marcus pulled his hand away quickly. Had Esca been awake? Did he know that he had been stroking his face? Coughing slightly, Marcus looked away. Esca reached out and grabbed Marcus' hand, pulling it to his face again.

 

"Marcus. I'm sorry for how I treated you. I'm sorry that I allowed them to do what they wanted. Please know I did everything I could to help you complete your mission." Esca whispered, and Marcus smiled. A small smile, but a beautiful one to Esca's eyes-so used to the scowls and sneers that he received of late.

 

"Esca…" Marcus sighed, and he let the Briton move his hand. Marcus was always amazed at how clean Esca's face was; never a speck of stubble. He on the other hand had his beard growing in. Although it was only light, Marcus still felt dirty. Esca brought his own hand to Marcus' face, and Marcus saw a decision made in the Briton's mind.

 

"Take me." Esca said suddenly. Marcus frowned. Take him? "Yes, Marcus. Take me like they took you. Get the revenge you need. The revenge you know deep inside you want. Punish me for allowing them to punish you." Esca said, his voice shuddering. Marcus wanted to claim that he had no such thoughts on his mind, but the sudden thought of throwing the Briton down and fucking him into the hard rock floor was…exciting. Was he so twisted?

 

Esca sat up, and began to take his clothes off. Marcus was about to protest, when Esca lay a finger on the Roman's lips. "Listen Marcus, would it help to say that I almost want this to happen? Not the act, per se, but the punishment. I deserve it. I…I will do whatever you say. I will not continue until you tell me." Esca stated, and with a hard, determined stare, Esca stayed on his knees, his shirt half off. Marcus stood. Then he felt the rush of vengeance, and he slapped Esca hard across the face. Sprawling, Esca gasped.

 

"Strip." Marcus barked, Esca slowly climbed to his knees again, and shucked his clothes off. Shirt, pants, shoes. When he was as nude as the day he was born, Marcus advanced on him quickly and grabbed a fistful of hair from the back of Esca's head. Looking deep into the Briton's eyes, Marcus paused for a moment. He saw in the blue eyes that Esca was afraid, that he didn't really want to go through with this, but was making the sacrifice for Marcus. When Marcus did nothing, Esca looked away.

 

"What would you have me do?" Esca asked. Marcus nearly blanched, but his resolve hardened.

 

"Fight back. Try with all your might to keep me from taking you like I was. And when you realize you can do nothing? Enjoy it." Marcus said hoarsely, and he kissed Esca savagely. And fight he did. It was all Marcus could do to pin the Briton to the cave wall, to undress himself as he held Esca with one arm. To press himself hard against the other man and bite his neck, to keep the mans' arms above their heads, wrists roughly trapped between Marcus' hands and the rock wall. And when Esca realized that no matter how hard he fought, he was no match against the steel grip of the Roman, he gave in, and he kissed him back, he pushed himself into Marcus, and both gasped. Letting Esca's wrists go, Marcus pulled the Briton's legs around his waist, and then had his hands on either side of Esca's head. Esca was gasping, hard and needing. And when Marcus jerked his hips, prodding him at his entrance, Esca shuddered. Marcus put his mouth close to Esca's ear.

 

"This will hurt, slave, and I will not give you time to adjust." Marcus whispered, and Esca bit his lip. Then the Roman thrust hard and fast, impaling Esca in one swift motion. The amount of agony was surprising, and Esca could not contain the scream that tore from his lips. Marcus pumped into the Briton, causing his back to beat against the cave wall. Esca continued to cry out, feeling his insides burning. This was what Marcus suffered? Esca took it all, trying his best to suffer for the sake of his master.

 

Marcus stopped suddenly and threw Esca to the floor. Esca got winded, but before he could recover, he found his knees on either side of his head, and Marcus solidly between his thighs, once again thrusting hard and fast into the Briton. Esca felt it then—the white hot flash of pleasure—and he cried out in ecstasy. Marcus smirked at the surprised look on Esca's face, and aimed for the spot that drove Esca crazy, like the warriors did to him. Esca then began to roll his hips with Marcus' rhythm, and soon, both were moving as if one. Marcus reached down and wrapped a hand around Esca's length, and that was when Esca came. When Esca became impossibly tighter around him, Marcus came as well.

 

They lay side by side, panting, for a long time. Marcus felt more relaxed then he could remember, and Esca, well, he was sore and bleeding, but not so bad off as Marcus had been. When their breathing calmed and body temperature returned to normal, they sought out their clothes and dressed. Then they fell asleep on opposite sides of the fire. This was a once in a lifetime event, and both knew that it could never, ever happen again.

**Author's Note:**

> This movie screamed bromance...but this scene screamed the loudest in my head...I'm such a terrible person lol  
> I was busted on FF.net for this one...and another fic I will be posting soon. I do hope you enjoyed my twisted brainvomit.


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